Airs & Graces but No Smiling Faces
by deadbeatdragon
Summary: Obligations, greed and arrange marriages crumble the happily ever after fantasy. Lucy and Rogue know this better than anyone. Together, they face the universe's harsh realities. That love isn't forever. Your family is your enemy. And all you can really hope for is someone to hold your hand while life screws you over. FAREWELL I WASN'T SURE WHAT THIS WAS REALLY
1. Chapter 1

**I  
** _Fairy Tale Fallacies_

 _The Girl;_

I peered down from above, the high marble staircase giving me a bird's view at the scene that awaits me.

The aroma of a full blown buffet. The blending of several tete-a-tetes overpowering the soothing tones of a classical piano. Men dressed fancy in suit and tie along with the occasional monocle. And women -all ball gown-ed and jewel adorned- perched at the arm of the aforementioned fancy men, being paraded around like trophies, their lips seemingly glued shut in a processed smile. And let's not forget the fake echoing collective laughter giving an overall snooty air to the chandelier lit ballroom.

I can hardly believe that the child I once was, little Lucky Lucy, loved to watch such a scene from a slit in the door. I used to yearn for the day that balls like this would be held for me.

I used to look up to my mom, clad in the most beautiful of ball gowns with such a perfectly painted face to match, think her a princess and dad a prince, walking down the ivory staircase to meet up and dance with other princesses and princes. I thought it the most exciting and wonderful event to happen in the Heartfilia Manor. How I was unbelievably mistaken.

And to add insult to injury, I can distinctly remember how I'd plead year after year to join both my parents in the festivity since they always told me not to until my debut, I even went so far as to wish for it on Christmas and some birthdays. But now I'm eighteen, dressed just as beautiful as my late mother, face painted to perfection just like hers was, looking around the grand ball held in my honor and the dream come true it was supposed to be was instead proven to be complete and utter bullshit

I soon started berating my past child self, scolding her on wasting wishes on a night as rubbish as this, spending precious time fantasizing about ball gowns and princes instead of making the most of that time with the only person that really mattered, Mama.

I mentally slapped myself in pathetic shame as the fairy tale, the dream was so easily shattered into pieces by merely a glance from atop an ivory staircase. Years upon years wasted away yearning to be one of those trophy daughters with the manicured smile and lavish clothing which -through recent experience- I've learned were more uncomfortable than being wrapped from head to toe in sandpaper. God, I can't even breathe in this stupid corset contraption and my high heels are digging into my feet which I legitimately feel -though this may be a complete over-exaggeration- are bleeding buckets full, right on the borderline of turning my pearl white stilettos into blood red...literally.

But though the discomfort in being dressed up like a moving, talking doll, was irritating to say the least, my aggravation rest solely on the whole of the "glitterati" I begrudgingly must call guests. I swear if I have to smile and nod at business nonsense while being groped by sexually deprived 100-something year olds one more time, I'll have to resort to mass murdering every monocle, every ruby necklace -basically every goddamn snob in this joint.

I inwardly sighed in exasperation and moroseness that seemed to grow every second of every passing day, as I went through the motions of my self-imposed pity party, all the while, gulping down my third glass of bubbly. With my back against the wall in the dark corner of the room, I keep coming back to the one realization that has beaten the whole of my childhood out of existence, that all the princess fairy tale schmuck I've read, dreamt -heck even tried to play out with my ickle dollies- were nothing but smoke and mirrors, set out to delude unsuspecting and highly impressionable children (i.e. my poor little self).

My face wrinkles into an ugly cringe at the various memories flashing through my mind of little old me staying up till the break of dawn absorbed in yet another fairy tale, filled with cowardly Prince Charming's and the sickening damsels that were the glorified princesses. I cherished those fictional characters as if they were alive and true, mainly because I lacked actual companionship in reality. It's sad to think that the happy kid Lucy couldn't even hold down a friend no matter how hard she tried. Everyone seemed to proceed with caution whenever they talked to me, whether young or old, no one had the heart to tell me how they truly felt, what with my father's influence and all. Not even the fabled monster under the bed could scare away more children than Jude Heartfilia, brutal businessman and severe authoritarian -I mean father.

I've lived such a sheltered life all because of my family name, but even as a kid I was able to grasp around that fact and the loneliness that came with. Though looking back now, I realize I should've put up more of a fight when it came to friendship. Whenever I saw the servants' children playing around the gardens, I couldn't help the green eyed monster to arise within me, but when that happens, I always found an excuse, always told myself that the real fun were in the books and buried myself in more fallacies. I thought all was right in the world, I had an infinite number of friends in the library and a room full of dolls. But that childhood soon left me friendless and miserable, eating away at the sickening revelation settling queasily in my heart, weighing it down in both humiliation and ache. That the real fairy tale is and always was the commoner life.

Now I'm yearning for yet another fairy tale, how ironic given the fact that I've declared fairy tales as the devil word-incarnate. If only I thought of it sooner, I wouldn't have been roped into the dark side of the rainbow that was the actual princess life. Obligations, flattery and the good ol' arrange marriages were all in store for me now, how I wished I could gather the courage to just slip out and leave this whole twisted princess story in my wake but despite wanting a commoner's life, I've come to also realize that the hoity toity elitist life I've been roped into, is the only life I actually know how to live. And with that, I've successfully made my mind run around in circles only to end up back at square one, 3rd time this week-nay, this hour actually, and I think I'm gearing up for another round.

The whole place suddenly blurred upon my eyes as my tear ducts began to react to the heavily applied eye makeup Spetto insisted I wear. The blinding golden overhead light consumed my vision whole and a queasy, almost suffocating feeling arose from my stomach. I drew up a cold sweat underneath the heavy baggage that was my ensemble and only one thought seemed to encompass my very being. _I had to get out of here._

I found the double doors that opened up to a secluded balcony and set my sights on it, moving towards it like a girl on a mission. A bottle of champagne caught my attention as I glided across the ballroom seemingly ignored by anyone and everyone, I snatched it up quickly before exiting the room with no one the wiser. Of course, not even in my own debut would anyone notice me, the effing debutante, missing in action. Not that I care about it all that much personally speaking, but it is quite a ridiculous situation. And here I thought, those scheming business tyrants were actually perceptive. I guess the only way I'd actually garner their attention would be if I wore a dress entirely out of money. But who'd really go through those lengths just for a glance?

As I sneaked through the opening of the balcony door, I was immediately greeted with the heavily pine scented breeze. _Ahh..._ fresh air and autumn, a divine combination really. I placed the champagne on the ledge and -after wiping away the ridiculous mascara and lead fake eyelashes that practically blinded me- I peered out at the vast picturesque landscape. Granted, it was nightfall and I couldn't see much besides the lantern lit servant's village, but either way this was a billion times better than the view inside.

I leaned over the balcony ledge, looked down at the green freshly cut grass below. Yeah, I'd survive a two-story drop, and god knows I'd do it in a heart beat if it weren't for that one thing that always held me back from running away at such opportune moments as this. Today the reason I can't skip town is because I don't think I can run in these satan stilettos, much less skip. And I could probably name a myriad of silly excuses and reasons more but at the back of my mind I know that I just don't have the heart to leave my father all alone. Despite his brash behavior and aloofness, he's the only family I have left, and vice versa I'm sure -unless he's got himself a mistress hidden under my nose this whole time. But joking aside, if my mother taught me anything, it's to never abandon family so I don't.

I groan in frustration at the thought. Why must I take after Mama so much? Just like her, I can't leave anyone in pain well enough alone, to the point I've wrecked any future happiness I have left. I popped open the bottle of bubbly in low spirits, prepared to drink away my frustration, my sadness and effectively, my life -if you can even call this a life.

"Cheers! To my happily ever after!" My sardonic declaration was carried out into the silent wind, the sizzling from the champagne being the world's response. I then brought the bottle to the inky starlit sky, where I knew Mama was watching over me, before I commenced in devouring every drop of champagne.

And surely enough; hours later I find myself, barefoot, dancing to music on a stereo I've somehow acquired and drunk off my ass with a weird sensation I'm being watched. But in this moment and probably in every moment hereafter, I just couldn't care less.

* * *

 _Author's Note:_

 _[insert disclaimer here]_

 _My felicitations, dear internet! I thought I'd try my luck at a RoLu fic, since I've gone completely obsessed with Lucy crack pairs.  
_ _I've exhausted all the good RoLu fics here and needed more, so I thought why not make my own?  
Thus, concludes the tale of the genesis of this story.  
_ _My plan for this one will be a bit more of slice of life (so no magic) and some Rogue ooc-ness is to be expected. You really can't do much with the strong and silent type, sorry!  
Hope you've enjoyed this first chapter and hopefully you'd stick with me in the chapters to come! Ciao for now :)_


	2. Chapter 2

**II**  
 _Relationship Truths_

 _The Boy;_

Panting, huffing, grunting. The hurried rat-tat of our feet echoed all throughout the marble floor of the ridiculously extravagant foyer of the Eucliffe manor.

"Come on slow poke, pick up the pace! If mother hears that I'm late again, she'll have my sorry ass!" my blonde best friend yelled while simultaneously opening the too enormous for it's own good front doors of the mansion. I grunted out a frustrated response and quickened my pace, we were in the limo in no time at all. I let out a heave, the running not only brought immense discomfort to my now wrinkled suit but also an ache to my leather shoe covered foot. I adjusted my bow tie as the driver eased onto the main road, on our way to the pompous gala some rich business man was hosting for his equally pretentious debutante of a daughter. You must have noticed by now that it seems kind of hypocritical to be saying such things when I myself have a rich businessman as a father and a sister whose debut was a mere month ago, but it's different with my family-or so I'd like to think-we don't just throw a big bash and invite strangers into our home, not like the Heartfilias (I think that's the name) who practically threw invitations out from a helicopter in the sky. Sting looked over at me and my sour face and patted me on the back encouragingly.

"Well will you look at that! Poker-face Rogue is actually showing some expression on that handsome face of his" I turn away from him and mumble under my breath.

"I don't know if you're trying to insult me or come on to me. Pick one at the very least" The visible surprise on his face was hard to miss after I spoke. By god, it's not like he's never heard my voice before, it's almost insulting how he's so shocked.

"And he utters more than five words in response?! What is it? My birthday?" I ignore the statement, giving him a _tch_.

"What happened to the I'm too cool to talk to you-Rogue?" He asks, in the worst impression of me I have ever seen. And I've seen Orga try at it. But I had no time to laugh, my mind too preoccupied in coming up with a valid excuse. 'Cause like hell am I going to tell him the truth. That the reason _she_ broke up with me was a lack of communication and that in hopes of not losing anyone else important to me, I've willed myself to emote now and again. _Tch._ That sappy shit answer will get me nothing but a rofl-ing Sting, months of cheap ass teases and the end of our friendship, seeming as I won't be able to contain the urge to kill him after that.

"I have some spare energy so why the fuck not?" I tell him, trying to go for an effortless approach, completing it with a shrug of my shoulders. He seems to have taken the bait, because either I'm a better actor than I thought or he's denser than ever imaginable. Both...yeah definitely both.

"After disappearing off the face of the earth for 3 months, it'd be surprising if you didn't have any. And you know, now that I think about it, I expected this" The idiot says, basically contradicting his nature by acting like he's the smart egg. I couldn't help let out a snort at his petulant behavior.

"Then why do you look so surprised?"

"A talking, emoting Rogue. I can fantasize about it all I want but seeing it in the flesh...is there anything about it that isn't surprising?"

"Well I'll give you that" I say halfheartedly, my mind now lost in trying to figure out what he means by 'fantasize'.

"And he carries the conversation with a flourish. Is he genial or what!" He stares at me, fascinated by my new behavior like I was his lab rat who suddenly turned into a monkey overnight. I look at him, a little weirded out by his attention solely put on me. Usually, I had to share his attention with either a busty plaything of his or his reflection on the mirror. And I liked usually, we should go back there quickly.

"I think that's enough with the commentary Sting. If you want to get hot and heavy with me, all you've got to do is ask"

"And there it is folks! The first ever lewd comment from Rogue bleeping Cheney! Can I get a round of applause for this normally conversing human being?" I give him a reprimanding look which he ups and laughs at. I roll my eyes at him -now this seems familiar. Whenever I was with this guy, my eyes seem to roll back almost every second. It never bothered me before because I was always with him but after 3 months apart, I think I've forgotten how to handle this immature behavior of his. Right now, I can barely stomach the fact that this is the son of a bitch I choose to spend time with. And speaking of stomach the limo takes a rather sharp turn which riles up the motion sickness in my belly. I hunch over in ill-composed pain and look to Sting who groans, his face turning a sickly green hue and his hand lingering near the doggy bags piled by the side for convenience. Curse you transportation!

"W-why must we go to this stupid event anyway? And via moving vehicle nonetheless" I say once I've gotten ahold of my bearings, my back slouching on the cushion in mental exhaustion.

"C-come on Rogue, this will be fun. Booze, one dope mansion and pretty ladies-that I specifically guarantee. I asked Rufus to send me some pics earlier and I'm telling you, hot babes everywhere~" And just like that, the green faced slob transformed, in record speed, into the horny bastard I know and loathe, right before my very eyes.

As he sings the last part of his sentence, he fishes out his phone from his pocket and flips through it quickly. Please don't be nudes. Please don't be nudes. I pleaded in my head, a sour memory coming back to my mind of Sting showing me a picture of him au naturel for a "modeling job" he said. I shuddered at the thought, not that he looked bad or anything but I don't swing his way...although I can't say the same for him. Hmm...

"-And there's plenty to choose from." I snap out of my is-my-bestfriend-gay-for-me?-trance as the blinding screen of his phone in shoved right up my face. I push him to his side of the car slightly irritated yet a ghost of a smile passed my lips. The boy's a handful but his persistence in the pursuit for booty is somewhat admirable -if you squint. I only hope for his sake that he reaches a change of heart someday. Nobody likes the pervy 90 year old bachelor mothers keep their 18 year old daughters away from. After gaining some composure, I glare at his smug face with earnest annoyance.

"First of all, it was a rhetorical question and second of all, you are aware that I'm only going because daddy dearest threatened to disown me if I didn't get out of the house right? And you know that I'm veto-ing any contact with the female population now so what gives?" I say, gesturing to the poorly taken shot of a curvy blonde in a blue dress on the phone in his hands.

"Well if you insist" I look at him expectantly, waiting for whatever ploy he's got up his sleeves again. Under my skeptic gaze, Sting shifts his position on the leather seat with slight unease then makes a single booming clap that jolts me to an upright sitting position.  
"…there's this one chick-"  
"-Bleck, bored already"  
"Just hear me out man" I took a gander at him, his puppy eyes that looked damn straight pathetic on a grown man and his right leg jiggling in restlessness. He seems desperate enough. With a sigh, I nod my head slowly in consent.

"Fine, proceed" I see him perk up instantly, dangerously resembling my house dog whenever I give him a treat.  
"Okay great! She's the girl the whole gala is for, Lucy Heartfilia I think" I scoff at this, unable to help myself. Seriously? I thought he actually found someone different this time from the way he was acting. My mistake.  
"Miss Daddy I Need an Overly Expensive Party to Reassure My Position of Miss Snobby Spoiled Bitch? Yeah I've heard of her-heck my sister's her"  
"Stop interrupting! Now, I hear she's incredibly smoking, like melting ice cream on a hot July smoking. Think, Mirajane Strauss complexion and personality but the dangerous curves, rack and ass of Erza Scarlet. Certifiabl-"  
"-I get the picture Sting" I cut him off before he could continue, knowing if I didn't, he'd run his mouth till' the party's over without ever really getting to the point.

"Anyways, Rufus tells me she's the perfect woman. Beautiful, smart, nice, the whole Christian school girl package. I for one would choose vixen over virgin any time of day, but you…I suspect Christian school girl is your M.O right? If _she's_ any indica-"  
"-Change the subject now or I'll jump out the car" My hand hovering over the car door. He raises his arms up in mock surrender, I then return my hand back to my side. I look at his pitiful gaze and can't help but hate him for it. What does he think I am? Some lost puppy? Just because I'm sick and tired of hearing her coming up in conversation almost all the fucking time doesn't mean I'm not over her. I'm plenty over her...God who am I kidding?

"Rogue, buddy I'm doing you a favor here" I couldn't help myself when he said that. The rest of my composure flies out the window and I'm absolutely seething right now.  
"Just how the hell is pushing a most likely annoying barbie doll my way doing me any favors?"

"Easy, it'll get your mind off of Yu-ki-" My face scrunched up in a terrible wince as he spoke the first two syllables of a name I want nothing to do with anymore. But despite that, all I really needed were those two syllables to calm me down, my sadness dominating my earlier anger 100 to 1. Seemingly satisfied with my dejected reaction, Sting smirked, like the sadistic spawn of satan he is.

"See! Just look at yourself Rogue! The very mention of her name has your whole face scrunching up in pain. That's a symptom my friend, of someone coming down with the breakup blues. Pathetic really, if you ask me." I watch as he reaches over at the ever prepared minibar next to him with ease. Already tearing away at a mini bottle of Merlot. Seriously, the way he can just say that with that annoyingly frank face of his to his clearly borderline suicidal friend is just plain rude and to be perfectly honest, a dick move. Not that Sting would take much offense if I said so aloud, he'd probably even be complimented if I did, the damn twisted bastard. Seeming as he was just going to use _her_ through this whole conversation till' he gets his way, I decide to concede and ask him point blank.

"Okay, just what the hell are you planning to do with me and "Ms. Perfect Woman", as you so delicately put it"

"Fine I'll tell you. Me and the guys organized a meet cute for you two, you know so you could hit it off and maybe just maybe find yourself in a passionate whirlwind October fling or a long lasting ball and chain relationship, whichever floats your boat."

"What floats my boat is neither. Simply meaning, no thank you and stop with the schemes, they don't work!"

"Rogue please, it wasn't cool seeing you housebound all the time, just because some girl broke your heart. I'd have made an exception if you broke your leg or something but…I'm not trying to be mean-

"-Yes you are"

"I just missed fooling around with my best buddy, and look-y! You're finally out of the house and now's your chance! The chicks today are totally upping their game and you are sorely missing out. And besides, I don't want a male spinster for a friend, I've got a reputation to protect here"

"Gee, thanks for the support friend."  
"Tough love man, tough love"

"I've told you this a million times already, I'm not ready to date, hook up, play around, flirt a little, or anything of the sort. Going around and wooing good for nothing but their money girls will earn me nothing but trouble, that's clear to me now more than ever and you know why."

"That's just a cry for help man and a rebound girl is just the help you need." I wasn't even looking at him anymore, afraid of what I might do after seeing the pity I know is written all over his face in big bright letters, so much so I can even see it through through my peripherals. I wanted to say something, anything to get him off my back but my mind's coming up blank, though the car finally stopped at the entrance of a big white mansion. Yes! I've never been so eager to attend a ball before, it makes me wonder if I've lost mine in the process.

"Let's just get this over with"

* * *

Just a second after me and Sting entered the mansion, I'm squeezed to death by the familiar green haired idiot. Orga.

"And he's alive! Or back from the dead?...Zombie Rogue? Nevermind, welcome back to civilization buddy boy!"

"Get off Orga! You reek of booze!" I say, shoving the burly man off of me while effectively shocking both him and Sting.

"Wait hold on..." Orga then starts to count on his fingers, no doubt computing how many words I've spoken.

"To ease your mind, it's seven words" The look of pure astonishment on his face made me want to laugh, but I stopped myself, knowing doing so will only shock them to death…although, that didn't seem like such a bad idea.

"Okay just who the hell is this kid? A Rogue impersonator? Because let me tell you right now, he's not doing a very good job"

"Funny Orga. Real hilarious. You should try at the comedy club next time, everyone'll have a kick." Using my monotonous tone for it's actual purpose this time, but though the green haired man is strong, his brain is the size of a peanut.

"You know what? That doesn't sound too bad. Thanks Rogue 2!" I hear Sting snickering in the background as the three of us enter the Heartfilia Manor. I look at the grand hall and am instantly assaulted by rambunctious laughter and conversation that makes me almost want to gag. I barely gave a glance at the strewn ornaments and expensive pish posh around, already accustomed to that sort of thing and focused on fishing out the food. I spot a buffet table and was about to head for it when a red hatted figure moves towards us, waving his arm in the air.

"Cheney! Eucliffe! You just missed the girl of the evening- Wait, you did tell Rogue about the girl right Sting? Oh and did you get the pictures?" Rufus wiggled his eyebrows at Sting who did just the same. We say our hellos and begin to move around the room, contributing to the lively air of the place. At the sight of a group of girls by the corner, the blonde 19 year old future heir to the multinational Eucliffe conglomerate started bouncing in his place, like a kid in a candy store...well in his case, the eye candy store.

"Gentlemen. Let the games begin" Sting says, riling up the two idiots with him. I shake my head at their behavior, watching as they moved further in the crowd and catching one last bit of their conversation. The fading voice of Orga making me inwardly laugh at just how...Orga he is (I'm short of a better term to describe the level of stupidity of the man so I gave him his own personal level)

"Aww yeah! But seriously where'd you get a Rogue impersonator in this economy?" With that, Sting, Orga and Rufus separate and disappear in the crowd, fishing out the girls in the sea. I hate myself right now by just thinking, I was with them fooling around for years before _she_ came along, though I can proudly say I wasn't as objectifying nor sexist as those buffoons but sadly, that fact does nothing for my conscience. I let out a sigh and head towards my first objective, the buffet table. I took a whiff of the green puke like substance on a platter and immediately scrunch up my nose in revolt. _That looks scrumptious._ I hold down the bile rising in my throat and grab myself a glass of champagne from a waiter's serving silver salver. I catch Sting leaning against a wall sideways, putting the moves on a incredibly busty raven. My eyes furrow and I shake my head, repulsed by how quick he moves as I continue to watch him teleport to a slim red head and now back to the busty raven again. With a sigh, I take a sip of the sparkling alcohol.

"I'm hallucinating right? Because there is just no way that Rogue Cheney is here without his trusty robot face" I turn to my left at the sound of the voice I immediately recognized and see the familiar dark haired, dark skinned friend of mine. Her mischievous smirk and her vicious obsidian eyes -oddly enough- a sight for sore eyes.

"Minerva, didn't see you there. Good to know you've got you're mean spirit just about ready to bitch all over the place"  
"And it looks like I'm not the only one in town. Actual distaste on your face and more than five words in one sentence?! Did I fucking miss the soul switching ceremony or did you purposely forget to invite me?"  
"What can I say? I loathe this kind of thing, to the point where it's almost impossible not to show emotion"  
"You and me both. But I can see how you'd particularly hate them now, since you could probably run into _her_ here after..."

"Oh god! Not you too! Seriously when will you guys give it a rest! I'm fine! Really!"

"I find that hard to believe, considering that you shut yourself up for months now"

"Can I not enjoy a 3 month long book-a-thon without people thinking I've got some mental disorder or something? Is it too much to ask?"

"We, you're friends, even that moron Orga knows that you only go on book-a-thons when you're down in the dumps."

"I don't know what you're talking about. I go on book-a-thons regardless of what mood I'm in. It was just pure coincidence that I was brutally dumped by my girlfriend for four years, the day of my next scheduled book-a-thon."

"Rogue, just who the hell are you trying to convince? A naive 5 year old? Because I'll tell you right now that I'm certainly not that, nor are you for that matter." The seriousness in her voice silenced me, my eyes focusing on the glittering fluid gold of the drink in my hands. I hear Minerva sigh next to me and I clench my jaw, in both foreboding and anger. Another "it gets better" speech is fast approaching. Jesus, if this goes on, one would think that my girlfriend died instead.

"It's best if you face the music now better than later." She takes a pause and starts to count, holding up her fingers too close for comfort to my face.

"Track One: You got dumped, it sucks. Track Two: You stew in your misery, and we let you alone. And last but not least -and mind you, this one's a Billboard Hit Single. Track Three: .On." And here's another brutally frank jackass telling me, with no verbal filter whatsoever, that I'm a miserable pitiful fool. Sigh, why do I befriend these types of people? I honestly don't know why she bothers. I can barely heed any advice coming from a girl that has always done the dumping and barely the being dumped part. The closest she ever came to being dumped -prior to my knowledge- was the time when she and Sting were hooking up, they broke it off in mutual spirit and it was barely a relationship to begin with. So who was she, or Sting or anyone for that matter, to tell me to move on? I'm sorry friends but it seems I'm a lost cause. Now if you'll excuse me, I'd like to replay Track Two, until maybe...oh I don't know...the end of time? Yeah that sounds perfect. I was about to relay all this to Minerva when I noticed the scared shitless waiter, drenching his uniform in sweat, attempting to tap the She-beast (last name) on the shoulder.

"Madame Minerva, I apologize for the intrusion but your father would like to speak with you" I could feel the dark aura about to burst from the easily peeved (last name) but she sucked it up and nodded her head, with some hesitance in her manner. Phew! Saved by the ever-pressuring family obligations. Hallelujah!

But before she stalked off to her hated father, she playfully glared at me over her shoulder and pointed a scolding finger to complete the vengeful look.

"You got away this time Cheney, but I'll get you, you can bet on that"

"Oh I don't doubt you will." I give her a sly grin which she return with -wait...do my eyes deceive me? -is that supposed to be a sympathetic smile from the She-Beast herself? Well you really did it this time Rogue, if you've got Minerva's sympathy, you must be in real deep. In real deep depression, that is. I sigh and look over at all the suit clad gentlemen -is that really the best word to define them? Seeming as most of them are either ogling the cake faced women or "sneaking" some feel ups here and there. Another sigh escapes my lips, I'd rather bury myself in words and letters printed on dead trees than put up with this display of borderline sexual assault. I scan through the crowd lazily, not really bothering to pay actual attention. But a flash of yellow rushed past me and caught my eye almost instantly. I didn't get much of a glance at the fast moving figure but I did however sniff out a scent that was nothing but enthralling. Strawberries and vanilla along with a faint smell of bubbly wafted through my nose. And like the perpetually bored fool I was, I followed it. And boy, did it lead me somewhere.

* * *

 _Author's Note:_

 _[.disclaim]_

 _This author is a despicable human being who hiatuses sporadically due to her deeply ingrained commitment issues._  
 _Diagnosis by me...*sigh*_  
 _I can't explain myself so I'll just apologize._  
 _Sorry and I can't blame anyone but me if no one actually sees this._  
 _But I'll post...though I can't make anymore promises regarding the frequency :(_  
 _I still hope that whoever stumbles upon this like this though!_


	3. Chapter 3

**III  
** _Of Hamburglaring and Chance Encounters_

 _The Boy;_

I followed the scent of strawberries with a hint of vanilla, hoping to the heavens I might come across a secret buffet with actual sweets and treats, not like the minuscule portions of what is basically just fancy road kill from the god forsaken party. My stomach was growling in anger, as I expected it to; after stewing in misery for months on end, it kind of makes you actual crave for stew, as weird as that sounds.

I open up glass doors that lead to a balcony apparently. The whoosh of the autumn breeze rendering color to my face. The scent here was strongest yet I don't find any food, nothing at all aside from a stereo playing a soft acoustic and an empty bottle of champagne on the greek style columned pane. I take a step closer and notice the expanse of the balcony, measuring up to the size of a regular classroom. I let out a soft wolf whistle, the extravagance of this balcony alone could set someone back thousands of dollars-think quadruple digits-and I'm pretty sure there are loads of these balconies in this mansion and rooms worth even more. I hear a scuffle from my left and I turn towards the sound.

The sight I beheld was more than my poor heart could bear. A midnight blue dress shimmered underneath the lantern light that complemented the daring beauty's golden hair perfectly. Her body moved, hips swayed without a care to anyone who saw and I could barely contain my nosebleed as her curvaceous body went from side to side. A breathtaking serene smile graced her porcelain face, her pink lips moving as she hummed the song coming from the stereo. Her arms swayed absentmindedly by her side. I could feel a lump rising in my throat as the beautiful enigma of a blonde did a full turn, revealing the dangerously low cut at the back of her dress and exposing the milkiest of skin that I suspect would be baby smooth to the touch. The soft glittering material swayed around her effortlessly and the small serene smile upon her glossy lips made her an absolute vision, a sight to rival the most picturesque of landscapes even. The unknown goddess' eyes were closed and she was strangely barefoot, dancing as if slightly drunk-that case more likely so yet she looked absolutely astonishing. A spectacle that was registering in my mind as a memory I wouldn't dare give up for anything. Her hair was swishing in the cold wind, lemon locks escaping her unkept updo, framing her face heavenly making her -in my mind at least- the pinnacle of beautiful chaos. No words escaped my mouth and I gulped, sweating underneath my suit despite the cold atmosphere and my heart pounding straight out of my chest. I inched closer, begging to absorb every detail of her as much as I can, but my leather shoes scraped the granite floor loudly, making the girl's eyes to pop open and turn to face me on the spot. She was looking at me, her big cocoa eyes glittering with a subdued tranquil gleam and shy dreamlike smile that's got me hook line and sinker under her charm.

"Like the show?"

"Uh pardon?"

"I said did you like the show. Starring me, the crazy nutcase, drunk out of her wits and dancing like the loony she is"

"I-i don't think you're crazy"

"Please, you look like you've just seen a ghost. Was my dancing that bad?"

"No, I'm just a bit surprised is all" I was taken aback for a moment as her melodious laugh filled the open air. I looked over at her face, her laugh lines and the mirth in her eyes were pure, sincere and damn straight stressing my heart out.

"There's no need to get so flustered, I'm only joking. My dancing's tremendous" I inched closer to her by instinct, an invisible rope pulling me by force to the beautiful blonde.

"W-what are you doing out here anyway?"

"Getting away from the crowd. The horrible fumes of aristocracy and stuck up everything is making me gag"

"Tell me about it. And did you see the hors d'oeuvres?"

"Actually no, I physically couldn't because the portions were microscopic!"

"Not even worth the one bite either. Believe me, I tried one" This was a lie. With my motion sick stomach and sensitive nose, I would've barfed before the food even touched my lips. However that didn't matter to me, not when her face lit up in amusement when I said it..

"Ooh which one did you try? The one with the blue fur on top or the weird orange mold with an unsuspecting piece of raw meat underneath?"

"Neither, I chose the greenish goop with some random fruit on top"

"And how was this delicacy?"

"I'm pretty sure they just barfed on a plate and put a fruit on top of it to make it taste better, only to be doing the complete opposite"

"That sounds terrible"

"Taste even more so" After a short round of quiet laughter, we reverted back to silence. It wasn't extremely stuffy or uncomfortable, more like, it was the type of silence one would expect to have with a person you just met. I avoided her gaze which I knew was on me, her eyes showing suspicion of the subtlest kind, instead I looked at the lantern above her, its orange light straining my eyes.

"You know what I want?" At the sound of her voice, my eyes flicked over to her.

"What?" She sighed under her breath and moved to lean over the parapet, her hand cradling her chin in wistfulness before she spoke.

"A burger, a burger with a big bowl of fries on the side and a gallon of soda"

"Oh stop, you're making me drool" I took a spot beside her, watching her side profile lift up to look at the star dotted sky.

"I bet that drool would still taste better than the puke on a plate you've just described"

"Don't forget the random fruit on top"

"Does it make any difference?" She gave a snort as she said this, her face turning to me this time.

"Absolutely indeed, it makes the difference between horrible to actually bile inducing, ironic I know" She laughs again, and I didn't want her to stop. Something about this enigma (I am stuck to calling her as such in lieu of the fact I don't know her name yet) makes me want to try my best to keep that smile on her face, that sound of her laughter to echo out for eternity. As faintly perverted and overly poetic as that sounds.

"So what do you say stranger? Let's get out of here and grab a burger"

"We have to pay for that burger first, you don't want to be a hamburglar do you?" The statement was met with silence, to that I let out a childish pout.

"That is the worst joke in the history of jokes! You should be ashamed of yourself"

"Yeah yeah yeah. But it was worth the shot, you laughed anyhow and that was my aim" I looked over at her, at how her eyes grew wide in surprise and I was confused. Surely such a beautiful girl as she is used to compliments. I'd expect she'd brush it off with a blush or even a wave of the hand. Now my interest in her is piqued.

"Well then, mission accomplished" Her eyes turned over to an emotion I understood even less…it was…grateful? For what? I don't think I'll ever really know. I coughed a bit in my hand, to try to hide the red in my cheeks.

"Now let's get outta here before anyone suspects us" She leans in closer to me, her face no short of curious and mischievous.

"Suspects us of what exactly?"

"Of hamburglaring" Her head rolls back in laughter and a small smile escapes me and it scared me for a second. This is the first time I've actually smiled since the break up. Just what is this mysterious stranger doing to me?

"Oh gods in the sky! Make him stop!"

"Let's get a move on shall we?" I offered my hand to her and she looks at it and at my face with an apologetic and almost forlorn gleam in her eyes.

"I don't think that'd be possible"

"What do y-" I was interrupted by the scraping of the now open balcony door, a stern man late in his forties standing rigid and glaring daggers straight through me.

"Lucy!" The man strict tone brings me out of my shock. My head goes abuzzing while the girl strides over to the man with practiced yet forced ease.

"Lucy?" My whispered question held both my surprise and my incredulity at the situation, carrying it to the wind. I watched helplessly as the girl's silhouette sashayed farther away from me and nearer to the blonde man.

"Coming father" Her monotone voice almost made me want to grab her from behind and pull her away from this reality. Such emptiness and void of emotion in her voice was something I could never have guessed-nor wanted to hear from her and it left me slightly scowling and depressed (of something other than my ex, that's a first). But before she left me alone in the balcony, she turned around, her soft smile happily planted yet her eyes, unreadable.

"This was fun stranger. Save me a burger if you get the chance will ya?" My hand reached out to her instinctively.

"W-wait I-" But I could no longer finish, the slam of the balcony door was the resonating sound that made me give up completely. I stood there shell shocked for what felt like a minute but was really, a full hour. The opening of the door once again brought me out of my stupor, a ridiculous petty hope running through my mind. _Maybe she's come back._

But when the reality of the male voice coming from the door hit me, I was utterly disappointed.

"Bro! There you are! I've been looking everywhere for you…well not really but I've got a solid explanation for it. You would not believe the rack on this one chick! I've already named them, the right boob's name is Houston and the other C- Is something wrong Rogue?" _Sting. Of course it would be Sting. It's foolish to think otherwise Rogue._ I reasoned in my head before quickly taking up a newly found resolve. My head rose and I looked at my best friend with a determination I thought I lost, resurfacing once more.

"No, nothing's wrong. In fact, I think I'll take you up on that offer from awhile back." He reeled backwards a bit, surprised it would seem at the dead seriousness of my statement.

"Really?" I didn't care to respond with words, believing my face would tell him everything. My resolve. My certainty. And my desire to see this through. Sting, for once, did not disappoint and caught on quickly that this time, I was committed.

"Well alrighty then. One Lucy Heartfilia coming right up"

* * *

Author's Note:

[Characters are not mine]

Well that concludes their meetcute. *squeal*  
I had real fun making their conversations. Though Rogue came off a bit over-romanticized.  
Hope you, my internet friends, enjoyed :)  
Next chapter will be more on Lucy, so look forward to that!


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